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Open Poetry #22
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Christopher
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-02
Posts 8296
Purgatorial Incarceration

0 posted 2002-08-29 01:21 AM


Random thoughts interfering with the flow of my book - so you get stuck with them.



No More Milkshakes
©2002 C.G. Ward


when life shifted
   left-to-right,
I paused.
oh yes, the fool today, today.

it could have been
the faults found on the top floor
of a single-story house,
where cracks in the masonry formed
her face
as it once appeared in my dreams;
alive and expectant,
alive and outside the little shelter
of a hometown that never quite felt
like the proper place to stage a getaway.

how true that one was, how true.

instead, I felt the heat of life
bearing down like a pound of tons -
thrashing, screeching, careening
off a silence
only slightly louder than the piercing tone
in which she wrote 'goodbye,'
before plunging forgiveness
six feet deeper into the earth
than my shovel could ever reach…
just to spite me, I'm sure.

but I have felt the same -
riding a carousel as my stomach ached
with the need for another taste
of the milkshakes she used to make
when the sky dropped rain beneath
the shrouded grey
of a winter night.
and it seemed so appropriate then,
though I didn't really appreciate the water-fight
since she always seemed to win.

no more though:
no chasing forgiveness toward two in the morning,
where the excitement has built too high to resist
the comfort of a pliant mattress -
floor, couch, counter, backyard, whatever -
just to feel the affirmation of self
in the trembling of another's eyes.
trembling, oh god, trembling.
she always did let me win that one though.

now I am hiding;
looking for a way to dig just a little deeper,
knowing now those depths exist
where time doesn't cheat the warmth from your sigh,
and love is never just a word.
she is somewhere down there…
waiting with a milkshake, a smile,
and a water-pistol behind her back.
waiting for me.

© Copyright 2002 C.G. Ward - All Rights Reserved
ecrivan
Member Elite
since 2001-12-10
Posts 3923
my own state
1 posted 2002-08-29 01:31 AM


Enjoyed the narration, Chris..takes me back a bit


serenity blaze
Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738

2 posted 2002-08-29 05:53 AM


I am going to risk being politically incorrect on several counts on this--but C? I swear you write like you are an eighty year old Jew. and, I do mean that as a compliment!

This is chock full of "oy vey" sighs--such regret, without remorse--which is what I love about the "attitude" of your tone of writing--it's like, "yeah. I did it. so what?" smiling, perhaps that's the soulful touch of poetry? recognition of the "me" in another...

pardon me, but I think my freudian "slip" is showing....might as well take it off, yes?

*chuckle*

OH, YES.



I love when you write like this.

Moonlight Romeo
Deputy Moderator 5 ToursDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Senior Member
since 2001-09-10
Posts 982
The heart of you
3 posted 2002-08-29 10:06 AM


These are memories that make us wish for Adulthood when we are children, and make us, where we're Adults, to be children again.

Thank you.

What light through yon window breaks?  It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

Madame Chipmunk
Member Rara Avis
since 2001-12-05
Posts 8296
Michigan
4 posted 2002-08-29 10:11 AM


Wow!!!
What a soul cleansing write this is, Chris...
Beautifully and soulfully written..
~ chipmunk hugs

Lyra

copyright2002 Lyra Nesius

"poetry is life distilled"  Gwendolyn Brooks

hoot_owl_rn
Member Patricius
since 1999-07-05
Posts 10750
Glen Hope, PA USA
5 posted 2002-08-29 05:46 PM


WOW, WOW, WOW!!!!! Need I say anything more???
Duncan
Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455

6 posted 2002-08-29 07:48 PM



no more though:
no chasing forgiveness toward two in the morning,
where the excitement has built too high to resist
the comfort of a pliant mattress -
floor, couch, counter, backyard, whatever -
just to feel the affirmation of self
in the trembling of another's eyes.
trembling, oh god, trembling.
she always did let me win that one though.

Very glad, C...that your book didn't get in the way of this poem.  Damn!  Can I borrow your crayons?

Christopher
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-02
Posts 8296
Purgatorial Incarceration
7 posted 2002-08-30 12:38 PM


thank you everyone. i always appreciate reading your comments.

hi ruth!

s'en - an old jew. hhmm. now i've been called many things - heh - but never an old jew. that's a new one to add, and i thank you for that as well as the intended compliment.

Dunc-Dude: sure thing... it's a large box, and i break them sometimes, but you're always welcome to color too.

Severn
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-07-17
Posts 7704

8 posted 2002-08-30 01:58 AM


Well as usual it's a case of...so what's the guy on about now...lol.

I remember I was once the Queen of Vague, you know - you have definitely stolen that crown; with all those thoughts, impressions and feelings that cycle round your head narrowed through a tiny poetic column...

Throw in the just-there imagery, and the tone of loss...and we have the standard C-write...

and again, it's constructed well.

This:

'no more though:
no chasing forgiveness toward two in the morning,
where the excitement has built too high to resist
the comfort of a pliant mattress -
floor, couch, counter, backyard, whatever -
just to feel the affirmation of self
in the trembling of another's eyes.
trembling, oh god, trembling.
she always did let me win that one though.'

damn near perfect.

I notice you're using the conversational tone quite regularly now...I think that for the most part it works - but sometimes it's a bit of an overkill. Like here:

than my shovel could ever reach…
just to spite me, I'm sure.

I'd drop that last line, or at least the 'I'm sure.' It just seems somehow to...imbalance the poem I guess. Not quite the right word, but I'm sure you know what I'm getting at.

Oh, and the first verse - it's good, very. Immediately want to know more - why you're the fool etc. It doesn't quite get answered (though to you, as the author, it probably does) which is a nice piece of ambiguity that freeverse poems can't seem to do without.

The milkshake imagery is tender and very intimate...which creates empathy for the subject - the tang of loss throughout the whole poem is nicely underscored by the loss of the milkshakes.

Overall C, this is certainly a success...please stop saying you don't think you're a good poet. Wake up and smell the roses eh?

Hugs

K



Dark Angel
Member Patricius
since 1999-08-04
Posts 10095

9 posted 2002-08-30 08:28 AM


Hi Christopher  

I agree with most of what K said, especially to "wake up and smell the roses" because I think you're a good poet too!

I really enjoyed this.

Maree.

[This message has been edited by Dark Angel (08-30-2002 08:28 AM).]

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